Running Poems

My frequent readers and friends know that while I run early in the morning, in the later afternoon, and on weekends, much of my time is spent at school teaching fifth and sixth graders. I also spend a good amount of "free" time reading my students' writing, reading books they're reading, and planning lessons to try to get fifth and sixth graders excited about reading.

As a result, I haven't spent near as much time as I would like reading for my own enjoyment. I also haven't written as much as I've wanted, read as much as I've wanted, or worked out as much as I've wanted. I missing the TC One Mile to take the 5th graders on an overnight field trip, and while I'm excited about spending the night at the Science Museum, I'm sad that I'll miss this race for the first time in three years.

I am, however, having a fun time teaching poetry to 5th and 6th graders. In college I loved reading poetry, and even dabbled in writing it as well. So, since I'm not carving out quite enough time to write narratives that I enjoy, I'm starting to try my hand at some running poems. I've always considered most of my poetry to be doggerel, but I thought if I threw some first and second drafts of poems on this blog, I'd be able to put myself out there a little more.

Besides, I ask my students to share their poetry with their peers, so I think it's only fair that I share some of mine. So, here's my first:

"Marathon"

Cold and dark,
wearing a trash bag
and free gloves,

Laura and Nate's first marathon

Goodwill sweatshirt and sweatpants.


Huddled in a mass
still shivering before
the gray buildings are bathed
with the eastern sky's light.

Sprung tight as a spring,
heart beating in time to the pulse
of the race,
starting in five, now three, now one
minute.

Now moving
holding back to keep from the wall
too soon.

The sun now creeping
into my eyes.

The motion, inertia,
the miles click by as
high fives are given,
received.

The pain as the lightning bolt
cramps hit the thighs and the calves
and now walking, now crying.

Finishing, looking at the clock
that has too much time on it.


Happy Running!